


Emotional Pivot

by MakingTracks (PurpleGooPerson)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Decepticon Swerve, Decided Metallurgy was a form of Medical Science in the transformers verse, Fake Medicine, Fake Science, If Drift can change his name so can Swerve, Just wanted to cover those, Other, Seriously basically the entire universe, Seriously everyone seems to have a former name, So what if au, Swerve is a Decepticon, Unintentionally makes Swerve a badass, cause fuck if i know what i'm doing, looking at you Counterpunch|Punch, or just constantly changing their name, what if au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleGooPerson/pseuds/MakingTracks
Summary: It all started as most things do in this universe..Not with a bang.But, with a crack and a whimper.A series of connected drabbles in random order exploring a what-if au about Swerve being a Decepticon.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Emotional Pivot

_Swerve of Helex_

That was his name. The name of a run of the mill forged metallurgist, who was one-part medical scientist and three-parts talkative dreamer. He had a fun-loving attitude and a habit of making wisecracks at the worst times. Always greeted other mecha with a jaunty wave and a wide smile on his chubby face. Just another mecha trying to make it in this messed up world of theirs, even if the last thing he wanted to be was his function. 

He was one of the few whose frame needed the help of a blacksmith to fully shape itself, resulting in some oddities such as his rather large servos for a minibot. Like most forged mecha, he was given to a more experienced mech for mentoring once it was determined what his function was by what could be determined from his spark-coding and frame type. Metallurgy, a branch of science and medicine that specialized in the forging and production of alloys for frame repairs, refining, and construction. Metallurgists were considered a mix between engineers, chemists, and medics due to their profession needing them to download and train in multiple branches of each field in order to utilize their own effectively. While a metallurgist could double as a medic, it was mainly for basic repairs, not full-blown surgery and frame change and only in emergencies. 

To bad for his Mentor Pivot, Swerve wanted to do anything, but be a metallurgist in some stuffy lab forging alloy for armor for holler-then-thou wastes of spaces who only cared about how shiny their armor was. He wished to be a bartender, using the sensors in his hands to be able to mix drinks and various varieties of engex for happy drunk masses instead. He dreamed of a life that didn't involve reworking the same alloy formula to forge the same overly gaudy scrape that passed as civilian armor among those in high society constantly. He would take refining energon over this, personally. At least that way he could possibly run an illegal bar in one of the mining moons. 

So, he put in a request for Change of Function. Multiple times and he was rejected just as many times. Swerve smiled through the pain of having his dreams stomped on constantly and denied the right to pursue what makes him happy. He smiled and laughed through the pain, even as he was demoted from his cushy (if stifling) job of making alloy for nobles to a barely paying job of making the armor and alloy for the gladiators in the Pits after he spoke out one too many times against his mentor about his request for a Change of Function. Really, Pivot was doing him a favor all those years ago. 

One learns a lot in the Pits and in-between struggling to survive from a sudden shift of social/financial status and struggling to survive the cut-throat backstage of the Pits, Swerve learned to survive in a world that wished to do everything it could to crush the dreams of his spark. Another thing he learned was that the so-called scum of Cybertron and criminals were many mecha who spoke out against what their Society claimed was their function and simply wanted to pursue their dreams as well. A metallurgist was the closest thing the gladiators had to a medic in the Pits. And this knowledge drove Swerve to adjust his perception of the world and cobble together what medical knowledge he knew and could download in order to help the gladiators survive just a little longer. And still, Swerve kept dreaming, dreaming of a better life for him and those Cybertron deemed outcasts for not wanting to conform to their designated Function. One day owning a bar and never having to smelt down the body of a dead gladiator in order to repair the armor of the victor. 

Swerve of Helex was a happy-go-lucky fool, who kept smiling through the pain and dreaming of better days instead of doing something to better his situation. But, that dreamer was long dead-At least in the eyes of his reforged self. Dreams did nothing but give a mech the promise of false hope and sparkache. Dreams crumbled under the harsh realities brought to a mecha's door by their toxic society and the mecha leading it. And the Dreamer had grown tired of constantly picking up the pieces each time it happened. 

If Society wouldn't allow him to change in order to obtain a small piece of happiness and self of self. Then he would gladly use his Function he was forced to keep to tear this Society down from its very foundation in order to reforge his dreams from it's broken remains. And he will smile, laugh and happily dance as he watches it all fall down.

"Funny thing about Cybertronian alloys and their compositions. Did you know that nobles had their frames forged and constructed with an alloy comprised of a high ratio of soft metals in order to keep the shine and luster of the metal not covered in paint nanites? After all, why should they cover their perfect selves in inferior paint and resemble the common masses when they would just polish themselves and show off the golden luster of their frames. Sure even cybertronian alloys are all pretty strong even if comprised mainly of gold or silver." The mech's orange visor gleamed viciously even as he smiled pleasantly at the mecha panicking as their metal became brittle to touch, a glowing vial dancing between the digits of one hand lazily, "Yeah, that cloud you and your buddies bravely walked through? It's really an aerosol form of a chemical compound that disrupts the bonds of softer metals on a molecular level thus weakening the alloy the metal is a part of and causing the whole alloy to become brittle and break at the slightest touch. This particular compound targets gold, which your paltry so-called superior Noble armor holds a large amount of. You really should have used battle regulation armor." Sure, he didn't deal most of the damage but he had fun paving the way for the heavy hitters to do so.

Swerve of Helex was long dead, along with his simple wishes and happy dreams. In his place and wearing a dead mech's smile as he danced through the carnage created in the wake of his chemical havoc was Decepticon Medical Scientist Metallurgist, Foxtrot. 


End file.
